


It's You

by asoulofstars



Series: Inspiration [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, In A Coffeshop, Modern AU, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:22:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1450072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asoulofstars/pseuds/asoulofstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa and Jaime go to a coffee shop, and they have a rather revealing talk about their Muses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's You

“What are you drawing?” Sansa asked, noticing how Jaime was already sketching when she arrived at the park the next day.  
“Y--the fountain,” Jaime responded.   
He had almost said your fountain. She sat there all the time, and she added life to it. It really was hers in that sense. He felt her move closer, a hand resting on the back of his chair that made him hyperaware. He sat up straighter, allowing her a better view of the sketch.   
“It’s beautiful,” she told him. “You’re a wonderful artist.”  
He smiled, and the action lit up his eyes. “It’s just missing one thing.”  
“What’s that?” Her head tilted to one side, eyebrows scrunching together like they always did when she was in thought.  
“You,” Jaime replied simply.   
Sansa blushed, red creeping from her neck to her cheekbones. He grinned, looking quite pleased with himself. She raised her eyebrows, wondering why he was so happy about getting her to blush. He waggled his eyebrows at her. Her blush deepened, matching the color of her hair.   
“Want to grab a coffee?” he inquired.   
“Sure,” she answered.   
He stood up, packing away his sketchpad and charcoal brushes in a red satchel. He held out his arm to her. She bit her lip, smiling softly as she took it. He walked them to the little coffee shop nearby the park.  
“What would you like?” Jaime turned to Sansa.  
“A peppermint hot chocolate sounds good,” she said softly.  
“A peppermint hot chocolate for the lady and an Irish Coffee for myself,” Jaime told the barista.  
They receive their drinks and sit down at a table. He noticed that she had a new notebook.   
“Were you able to salvage anything from your other one?” he inquired, nodding to the dark gray leather notebook.  
“A few lines. The rest I had to try to remember. Some of it won’t take much to get back.”  
“That’s good. And, how’s your arm?”   
She looked down at the bandaged skin. It was no longer paining her, but that could be because she was wearing a short sleeve blouse that was too short to brush against it.  
“It’s okay.”  
“I’m glad. That was a nasty fall.”  
Sansa shrugged. She did not want to show him how it had caught her so off guard. Her sister was the one who was always getting scraped up. Her sister was the one who never took in her surroundings. Sansa always prided herself in knowing what was going on and how to react to it. Which is also why she felt so awkward right now. She did not know what was going on with Jaime. And she had no idea how she was supposed to react to it.   
“It was not too bad,” she told him. “I barely felt it, to be honest.”  
A small, tender smile quirked his lips upward. He brushed her long, almost-but-not-quite curly red hair back as he moved his chair closer to hers.   
“No, you were far too worried about your notebook. What is it that you’re trying to write?” he wondered, looking into her blue eyes, getting lost in the depths that were as clear as the fountain she sat upon most days.  
“A story about an artist. Where did he come from? Why does he sketch with charcoal? Has he sold any of his sketches, or does he keep them for himself? Does he have a plan of where he’s going?”   
Jaime smiled. “A good artist follows his Muse.”  
“And what’s your Muse, Jaime?”   
He looked right at her, emeralds piercing sapphires, and brushed his fingers over her hand. “You. My Muse is you. You breathe life into everything.”  
“Me?” she murmured.  
“You. It’s you.”


End file.
